Man, let me tell you. I know the title is about a horoscope from way back in June 2015, but trust me, the real practice here was digging up my own damn history. I spent the last three weeks doing this, and the whole thing was a brutal, but necessary, punch in the face.
The Bottoming Out: The Trigger
I wasn’t looking for ancient star signs for fun. I had just finished dealing with a massive financial mess. My biggest freelance client, the one that kept the lights on for years, just pulled the plug. No warning. They said they were going “in-house.” Suddenly, I was staring at zero income and a rapidly shrinking savings account. I was totally flattened. I started questioning every single career decision I’d ever made. Every risk I took, every chance I missed. It felt like I was cursed, like I was meant to fail at this whole self-employed thing.
That feeling—that specific, overwhelming sense of cosmic unfairness—reminded me of a time seven years ago when I felt the exact same way. That’s when I suddenly remembered this silly, specific thing I had printed out: my “Full career horoscope pisces june 2015.” Back then, I was terrified to quit a soul-crushing admin job, and I’d checked every astrology site hoping for a sign. A sign that I was safe to jump.
I needed to see if the stars had actually predicted the failure back then, or if I was just a self-sabotaging idiot. That became my “practice.”
The Archaeology Phase: Getting the Data
First step: I had to find the actual prediction. That was a nightmare. I started digging through old email accounts I hadn’t touched in years. I ran searches for keywords like “Pisces,” “June 2015,” and the name of the old, defunct astrology site I used to check. Took me a whole day of clicking through spam folders and archived files. Finally, I found a half-screenshot tucked away in a dusty ‘Misc’ folder on an old external hard drive. It was legible enough.
The prediction was pure, over-the-top, classic horoscope fluff. It promised:
- Strong momentum on a new, lucrative project.
- A powerful figure in your field will offer unexpected guidance.
- A major financial boost due to a past seed you planted.
- The exact month for a “profound, necessary professional shift.”
I read those sentences and thought, “Holy hell, if this was true, I should be a millionaire by now.”
The Verification Phase: Reality Check
This is where the real work started. I wasn’t just reading the paper; I was cross-referencing my life. I pulled out my old paper planners and started comparing the horoscope promises against my actual calendar entries for June 2015. It was brutal. I wanted to see if I’d been blind to these “cosmic opportunities.”
Here’s what I found when I forced myself to compare the fantasy to the reality:
The “Lucrative Project” Promise:
The prediction said I’d be starting a big, successful new venture. I checked my planner. The biggest entry was “Tuesday: Clean out desk drawers. Thursday: Buy new stapler.” I was running a lunch-time office pool on celebrity gossip, not a “lucrative project.” My “momentum” was just desperately trying to look busy for eight hours straight.
The “Powerful Figure” Promise:
The horoscope promised guidance from a major player. I checked my old work email chain. The only senior person who emailed me that month was the CEO, and it was a company-wide email reminding everyone to recycle properly. I did have a conversation with my manager that month—he told me I was using too much coffee creamer. That’s the “guidance” I got. The powerful figure was apparently just a cheap boss.
The “Major Financial Boost” Promise:
This one was the most insulting. The stars promised big money from an old investment. I had exactly one passive income source back then: a grand total of $14 from an old stock I bought right out of college. My bank statement from June 2015 showed I accidentally overdrew my checking account trying to buy cheap Chinese takeout. No boost. Just a fee.
The Realization: What I Learned
So, what was the point of all this archaeological pain? The practice wasn’t about the accuracy of the stars; it was about the accuracy of my actions. I realized that the opportunity was there, but I was the one who was paralyzed.
The “profound professional shift” the horoscope spoke of was probably just me having the chance to finally walk out of that dead-end job. I was so scared of losing the small, pathetic security I had, that I ignored every internal impulse to change my life. I let fear lock me down that June. The prediction didn’t fail; I failed to act on the feeling the prediction was trying to capture—the energy of movement and change.
Now, with my current income mess, I see the pattern. I wasn’t listening to the stars then, and I haven’t been listening to my gut now. The only thing that got “recap-ed” here was the discovery that my own inaction has been the only constant in my career history. Forget the Pisces prediction. The only prediction that matters is: if I don’t move, nothing changes. That’s the messy, expensive lesson I finally bought with this whole retrospective practice.
